Blood Sisters

by Melody Carlson

  He nodded soberly, no longer appearing so affronted and full of accusation. “Well now, I suppose that makes some sense. I appreciate your honesty, Judith.”

  “But do you have any answers for me?”

  “Don’t know that I have the answers you want to hear.”

  “All I want is the truth.”

  “Well now, the truth comes in all sorts of packages.”

  “I just want the plain and simple truth, Burt. No fancy package.”

  “Okay then. First off, Jasmine did most certainly kill herself. Shot herself in the head with a Colt .45—Hal’s gun, although I do not hold him responsible. The neighbor boy found her out back by the pond. The police will confirm that the wound was self-inflicted. Go and check them out if you like. But you want to know why did Jasmine kill herself? That’s a question we’ve all asked ourselves over and over. You want to hear my version, Judith? Why I believe Jasmine killed herself?7’

  She nodded.

  “Well, first off, as a young adult Jasmine chose to run off and rebel against her parents. She left home and went her own ways. And eventually her own ways got her deeply into trouble. She not only sinned against her own family, but she sinned against God and against her own race. And her sins brought her judgment and condemnation and ruin. And as her daddy, I tried to give her a second chance. I was willing to forgive her. I did my best to rescue my baby and bring her back here where she could be safe, where she could start her life over. All I wanted was for her to have the life that the good Lord intended her to live.”

  “A life that ultimately killed her?”

  His eyes flashed with blue fire. “She killed herself.”

  Judith put her hands into her lap so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Hal said you were the last one to speak to her that day.”

  His jawline grew firm and she feared she had really crossed the line now. But to her surprise he answered. “Yes. I believe I was.”

  She paused, focusing; she wanted to soften her voice, warm her words a little, win an answer from him. “What did you say to her, Burt?”

  His eyes narrowed now. “I told her to quit living in the past. I told her that her life was here with us, and that Hal was her legal husband, and that she better quit living in a dream world. I told her the past was dead and gone and done with.”

  She nodded slowly. “And did you feel that had anything to do with her taking her own life?”

  He looked down at his hands wrapped around the coffee mug. She looked at his hands too, surprised at how old and wrinkled and almost fragile they looked. Yet those were the

  same hands that had once hunted and fished, and even whipped Jasmine with a long leather belt. She turned her gaze away and swallowed hard.

  “This is hard to say, but sometimes I actually wish I hadn’t said those things to her. Sometimes I think she might still be alive if I hadn’t said those words. But I was only speaking the truth. I thought she needed to hear it, once and for all.”

  To her chagrined surprise, a part of her wanted to comfort this old man, so seemingly broken, bereaved of his firstborn daughter. And yet another part wanted to slap him hard, right across his wrinkled old face. Burt Morrison wasn’t a stupid man; he had to have known that Jasmine was in a fragile state, that mere words from him could hurt—even kill her. And so she looked down at the table and said nothing.

  “But even so,” he continued, “we all gotta make our own choices in this life. Right or wrong, they’re ours to bear, and when we stand before our maker, we, each one, stand alone.”

  Judith looked at him in wonder. Was he defending himself? Or making a confession? Or was it simply a plea? She couldn’t tell. Still she said nothing, hoping her silence might encourage him to continue, filling up the spaces with his own words.

  “And in the end, Jasmine made her own choice. She took the easy way out, leaving the rest of us here to pick up all her broken pieces.” He took a long swig of coffee, then set down his cup with a thud. “And that’s about all I have to say about that.”

  She nodded, smiling weakly for his sake. “Thank you, Burt. I needed to know.”

  He stood and walked over to the sink. With his back to her, he continued to speak. “You’ve been a real help to Ellen these past few days, Judith. I want you to know you’re welcome here. And should you decide to stay, we’ll treat you just like kin.”

  Her first response to his kindness was a sense of gratitude. This was followed by a wave of disgust as reality hit and she remembered what this man actually stood for and what it meant to be treated as his kin. Good grief, his very own daughters’ lives had been ruined by his hatred, and now both were dead! How could he take himself seriously in his invitation to be “part of the family”? Although her hands still trembled, she controlled her countenance, willing her expression to be flat with no show of emotion. Then she took a deep breath, deciding to smooth things over. For she must keep him open to her. “I really appreciate that, Burt. It’s been such a comfort how you and Ellen have been like family to me. You make me feel right at home here.”

  “What’s that?” chirped Ellen happily as she stepped into the kitchen wearing a bright pink bathrobe. “Sounds like I’m missing out on a good little chat.”

  “Good morning, Ellen,” said Judith in a cheerful voice. “Burt was just saying that I’m welcome to stay on here at the lake.”

  “Why, of course you’re welcome, honey doll. I won’t be able to bear it if you leave us. Now promise me you won’t, will you?”

  “Well, how about if I get you a cup of coffee first?” she offered, turning away to avoid the bright hopefulness in Ellen’s eyes.

  “Coffee sounds fine, but don’t you go being evasive with me. You are going to stay with us here, aren’t you, Judith?”

  Judith turned back around and gave her the brightest smile possible. “Like I said, Ellen, we’ll have to see. There are some things I have to take care of first. It’s a very big decision for me.”

  Ellen wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, I know, dear. And I’m just certain you’ll make the right choice. Just you make sure you choose to come back to us!”

  Judith laughed even as she tried to unobtrusively back away. She didn’t want Ellen to feel her wire. “Oh, Ellen, you make it hard to say no.”

  “Good. That’s just what I was hoping. Now, how ’bout a cup of that coffee?”

  “You ladies want to go to the parade this morning?”

  “Parade?” repeated Judith.

  “Yes, don’t you remember the Fourth of July parade?” asked Ellen. “Why, you and Jasmine used to dress up like all sorts of things just so you could participate.”

  Judith smiled, “They still have that?”

  “You bet,” said Burt. “We march in it every year.”

  Judith felt her stomach twist at the idea of a bunch of white supremacists marching down Main Street. “You march too, Ellen?”

  “Oh no, I just watch.” She looked at the clock. “If we get a move on we can probably get us a good spot out in front of the Timber Topper where we can get us a little snack if we like.”

  “You sure you feel up to it, Ellen?” asked Burt. “You were a little under the weather yesterday.”

  She waved her hand. “I’m fine. Just keep me in the shade is all I ask.”

  Burt allowed Judith to drive Ellen into town to secure a good seat. And at half past nine they had their lawn chairs set up in a shady spot right outside of the Timber Topper. Judith had planned ahead and brought a thermos of lemonade. She didn’t want Ellen wilting in the heat again. But the way it was suddenly clouding up, she wondered if her precaution was necessary.

  “You know what sounds good to me right now.” said Ellen as she dug into her purse for money, “is a cup of coffee and a Danish. You suppose I could twist your arm to go in there and get us some?”

  “Sure.” Judith took the money and reluctantly entered the crowded café. To her surprise she saw Josh Ford, Adam’s boy, chatting, or perhaps flirting, w
ith Katie Miller, who was standing behind the cash register. Katie had a big smile and appeared to be enjoying Josh’s attention. But when Judith walked up her smile faded and she whispered something to Josh, who turned around to look. But when he saw Judith, he seemed somewhat confused.

  “Hi,” he said, staring at her curiously.

  “Hello,” she answered coolly, turning her gaze to Katie. “Could I get a couple cups of coffee and a Danish, please?”

  “Yeah, just a minute.” And she disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Josh continued looking at her, then finally spoke in a hushed voice. “I saw you in the store yesterday with that woman.” Then he glanced outside the window. “Looks like you’re still with her.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t think you were really like that.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess you can’t always go by what you think, now can you?” She looked him right in the eye, trying to appear as cold and intimidating as she’d seen Burt do. For the less Josh knew about her, the safer he would be. Better to offend him right off and get it over with.

  “Guess not.” He turned away in what appeared to be sincere disgust. And even though she still knew she was acting, it hurt deep inside like the real thing.

  “Here’s your order,” said Katie in a stony voice. “That’ll be $4.85.”

  Judith laid a five on the counter, picked up her things, and walked away.

  “Oh, wow,” she heard Katie say sarcastically. “Thanks for the tip.”

  Judith looked straight ahead and made her way out the door. But even as she did, she noticed a table filled with some women from the lake smiling her way. “Hey, Judith.” called the woman who’d organized the ladies’ luncheon. “How’s Ellen doing today?”

  “Oh, she’s just fine now. Got a little heat exhaustion, is all.”

  “Well, good that it’s cooling off today then,” she said. “We gonna see you out at the big picnic this afternoon?”

  Judith nodded. “You bet.”

  A heavyset woman hopped up from their table and opened the door for her. “There you go, Judith.”

  She smiled brightly. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, there you are,” said Ellen. “I think the parade’s about to start.”

  The parade didn’t seem anything like what she remembered from childhood. If anything, it was more like a white supremacist celebration. To start off there was the horse brigade from the lake. In the center of the first row came Burt, his hand steadying a United States flag that flapped in the breeze. Ellen waved and called out to him, but his gaze remained directly forward, almost as if he were leading his group into a serious battle. Hal carried the Oregon state flag, and a man called Jerry bore a flag that didn’t look all that different from the Confederate one, but now Judith suspected this flag must represent their little colony at the lake. Next came a fairly large group of marching men wearing camouflage uniforms, carrying rifles, and waving a banner that bore the name of a national gun organization.

  Following this was a float of sorts, really pretty tacky, with a bunch of the lake kids dressed up like pioneers or cowboys. Their sign read: “Remember our Forefathers.” But it galled Judith to see the children looking so happy and cheerful. She would’ve preferred it if they’d been stone-faced and somber, as if they’d been forced into this, although she knew they hadn’t. And they were, in fact, having a pretty good time. But then, why shouldn’t they? This was probably one of the merrier days in their rather gloomy little lives. And besides, what child didn’t enjoy a parade? Suddenly, she simply felt sorry for them.

  Then came some of the older men, obviously veterans, and all wearing a variety of uniforms. Their banner said, “We Fought for Our Freedom—We Won’t Give It Away!” After that came a number of old classic cars and pickups, nothing too spectacular. Several pickups displayed Confederate flags, and various slogans were draped over the sides of the vehicles, “White Pride” seeming to be the general favorite. And then there came a short lapse, and it looked as if the parade was over.

  “What’s that down there?” called someone from the sidewalk as he pointed down the street.

  “What the—” yelled another.

  Judith craned her neck to see a small group slowly coming their way. There appeared to be only about a dozen of them and they were dressed in regular street clothes, but carrying a white banner in front of them. But as the marchers drew closer, she could see three tall African American men walking amid them, right in the front row. And in the center marched Eli Paxton!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  SHE FELT HER HEART pounding in her throat as she watched Eli and the others steadily approach the area where the spectators were situated. What in the world were they doing here? Didn’t they realize the danger? Why would Eli, of all people, blatantly invite this kind of trouble? The small crowd of spectators grew hushed as the marchers drew closer. And now several people emerged from the café to get a closer look, among them Josh and Katie.

  “Go home!” yelled an onlooker suddenly, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. “Go back to Africa!”

  Judith felt a very real shiver run down her spine. Dear God, please protect them, she prayed in silent desperation. Now she could clearly read the banner they carried. “Prayer Changes Things—Let’s Pray for Unity.”

  “Oh my goodness.” gasped Ellen as realization hit. “What in heaven’s name?”

  “Go home, you animals!” yelled an older man. “We don’t want your kind here!”

  Just then, Josh Ford pushed through the small crowd. He stepped right out into the street and suddenly joined the slow, deliberate stride of the protesters. Then Katie Miller, following his lead, grabbed his hand and marched right beside him. Bless you both, thought Judith. But please, God, protect them. Now she could also see Martha Anderson, cane in hand, and several other women, all about her age, slowly walking with an expression of sheer determination carved into each face. The women all had a similar look to them, and Judith guessed them to be friends. And there was old Dr. Warner and his wife, marching in the second row.

  With the initial shock over, the heckling began to increase. And the air was tangibly charged with open hatred and bigotry. Still, the brave marchers continued on. Over the derogatory shouts from the onlookers, Judith could hear the marchers singing “We Shall Overcome” just like in the old nonviolent protests from the sixties. It amazed Judith that the community of Cedar Crest had remained so backward for all these years.

  Oh, how she longed to stand up and join the marchers right now, to raise her voice in song with theirs! What would it matter to end her charade? Perhaps her mission out at the lake was completed anyway. Why not just announce her true allegiance here and now, with the whole world of Cedar Crest looking on? But then, what if there were something more for her to uncover out at the lake? If not about Jasmine, perhaps about James. Her eyes darted across the small crowd of angry spectators, growing more indignant and hostile by the moment. Where was Adam Ford right now? Did he have his people on hand for this potentially volatile situation? And what about all those rifles just up the street? Could the FBI, or whomever, possibly handle it if serious trouble erupted here? What if Burt and his bullies outnumbered them?

  Just then, someone from the sidewalk threw a large Coke cup, smacking Eli midthigh. It splattered, then fell to the ground in a dark, wet puddle. Without missing a beat, Eli continued to march. Now a few other onlookers began to throw things too. Food items, beer cans, beverage containers, and even a couple still-burning cigarettes.

  And then suddenly, as if out of nowhere, a camera crew appeared and with video cams rolling, began to instantly film the entire spectacle, catching the ugly words, the thrown items, the sneering faces—as well as the patient countenance of the peaceful protesters, a sharp contrast to their opposition. Judith spotted a man in a neat sports jacket over by the hardware store. She couldn’t remember his name, but she knew she’d seen him before on NBC news, and now he was speaking quickly and loudly into a micropho
ne and camera, as if he were describing the whole nasty event in vivid detail. Now Judith wanted to stand up and cheer. But instead she remained firmly rooted to her chair, publicly humiliated that once again, she was sitting on the wrong side of this critical issue. She felt Ellen’s arm tugging at her. “What should we do, Judith?” Ellen’s eyes were wide with fear.

  “I think we should—”

  Suddenly shouts were heard from up the street where the earlier parade marchers had headed just minutes earlier. It appeared as if word of the protest had reached them. Although Judith couldn’t see them yet, she clearly recalled their guns and wouldn’t be surprised if they were actually loaded.

  “We better go inside the Timber Topper, Ellen,” said Judith. And although she hated to miss a moment of what was now transpiring, she quickly rose from her chair and helped the older woman into the café. “I’m going back out,” she explained as she situated Ellen at a table with a couple of the older women who seemed oblivious to what was happening, “but you better stay here.”

  Judith went outside and stood with the crowd, unsure of why, or what she might even do if real trouble broke out. Would she risk blowing her cover? Of course she would, how could she not? Just then several policemen appeared. They wore riot helmets and carried large billy clubs in their hands. And they planted themselves squarely in front of the marchers, legs spread, hands on hips, blocking their way. A barricade.

  “Do you have a permit to march in this parade?” demanded the captain.

  “I didn’t know we needed a permit.” said Eli, taking a step forward.

  “Stop right there!” barked the captain, raising his club in a threatening way.

  “Look.” said Eli in a calm voice as he held up both hands, palms forward. “We are unarmed. This is a peaceful protest.”